Dragoncrest Cliffs immortal,

praimfaya hears the soft hum the stranger makes, perhaps in acknowledgement of her statement or perhaps it was a simple noise to communicate that he's heard her. regardless, praimfaya offers a small, terse smile, feeling a grief as she stands on these cliffs ...a grief that does not belong to her. an echo; so strange that she thinks it is just her imagination, blodreina's tales resurfacing stronger here where they've taken place.

praimfaya's ears perk, frostbound gaze fierce and studious as the stranger offers a spar in a playful tone with the guise of meaning it as a distraction. for her? or for him? it seems a bit reckless to her, to run the potential of suffering injuries so far from the towering spire of sawtooth — comforting and home. how do you know i can fight? praimfaya inquires in a coy hum of her own; like the sphinx as she presents her riddle to those who seek safe passage.

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